Breakfast at Tiffany's
by Princess Persephone
Summary: Breakfast at Tiffany's is Blair's favorite movie and always makes things better...except this time, it doesn't. All she can think about is Chuck. Set immediately after 2x13.


**A/N: **Here's a one-shot drabble that came to me after I watched Breakfast at Tiffany's this afternoon. Being one of Blair's favorite movies, and as I'm still recovering from "O Brother Where Bart Thou" (or, at least, recovering as much as I can, given that we have to wait till January 5 for more Gossip Girl goodness... *sighs*), I immediately thought of Chuck and Blair. Tell me what you think! Enjoy!

* * *

Paul: _You know what's wrong with you, Miss Whoever-you-are? You're chicken, you've got no guts. You're afraid to stick out your chin and say, "Okay, life's a fact. People do fall in love. People do belong to each other," because that's the only chance anybody's got for real happiness. You call yourself a free spirit, a "wild thing," and you're terrified somebody's gonna stick you in a cage. Well baby, you're already in that cage. You built it yourself. And it's not bound in the west by Tulip, Texas, or in the east by Somali-land. It's wherever you go. Because no matter where you run, you just end up running into yourself. [__takes out the ring and throws it in Holly's lap__] Here I've been carrying this thing around for months. I don't want it anymore._ --Breakfast at Tiffany's (1961)

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The movie Breakfast at Tiffany's always made Blair feel better. It was a fact of life, like Dorota waking her up for school everyday, or her father's Thanksgiving pumpkin pie.

Audrey Hepburn in general always made everything better—but Tiffany's was the jewel, no pun intended. It had always been Blair's favorite movie, and not just because it celebrated the brilliant and sparkling Tiffany &co., Blair's favorite place to buy pretty things.

When she was little, she'd watch it and drink sparkling cider from a glass, pretending it was the celebratory champagne Holly and Paul drank in the movie. Curled up with her headband and her father's Yale bulldog sweatshirt, Blair would watch wide-eyed and then demand large hats, sunglasses, and one of those long cigarette holders after every viewing. That movie was the reason she started sleeping with an eye mask, the reason she called everyone "darling" when she was seven, and the reason she'd secretly stored her perfume in the mailbox downstairs when she was twelve—a secret hadn't lasted very long once Dorota found out.

Blair had spent much of her childhood fashioning herself after Audrey, dreaming of going out every night to a different splendid party, owning an orange tabby cat…

She had watched it after the first time she'd thrown up her lunch on purpose. She had watched it after Serena had disappeared without a word in the middle of sophomore year. She had watched it after her father left them for Roman. She had watched it multiple times over Spring Break last year, after Gossip Girl had informed the whole school of her sex life. She had watched it after learning that Marcus had been cheating on her with his own stepmother.

And it had worked. Yes, Breakfast at Tiffany's always made everything better.

So after waking up to a cold, dark room and an even colder bed, where the only remnant of the boy she'd held till sleep claimed them both was a thin sheet of paper, Blair had turned to the one thing that couldn't leave her—Audrey.

_I'm sorry_, he'd said.

_You deserve much better_, he'd said.

_Don't come looking for me_, he'd said.

Blair switched on the TV, inserted the disk, and waited to be distracted, waited to lose herself in the story, in Moon River, in George Peppard's clear blue eyes.

But it didn't work.

Tiffany's wasn't doing the trick.

All she could think about when they entered the jewelry store was how she'd put pieces on hold every year for her birthday—and the necklace Chuck had gotten for her last year—the Erikson Beamon necklace that she'd been wearing at the Snowflake Ball… When Holly and Paul went to the strip club, Blair only saw Victrola. When Holly got drunk and spat mean things to her friend, Blair only heard Chuck's words echoing in her ears. Every time Holly woke up with her eye mask, Blair remembered waking up not a short while ago without hers. Every time they smoked cigarettes, she could smell the pot in Chuck's hair. When Holly received the news of Fred's death, all Blair could see was the funeral that had happened the day before…and Chuck's pale, empty face.

And when Paul declared his love for Holly and she walked away from him… Blair had shut off the movie, tears streaming down her face, unable to keep watching.

Blair had always pictured herself in Audrey's role. In her dreams she had always been the chic, beautiful, charmingly absent-minded girl that Holly was. Who else could have the leading role but Blair?

But now, Blair realized that she wasn't Holly at all. She was Paul.

People do fall in love, like he said. And love's the only chance anyone has for real happiness. Blair had seen it just that evening at her mother's wedding. Eleanor and Cyrus were happy…and in love.

Blair wasn't Holly, Chuck was. He was known as the womanizer, the bachelor, the wild one. He was so afraid of commitment and change and real feelings that he'd abandoned her in Tuscany. Then he'd asked her for love when he couldn't even say the words himself.

And now that she had…

He was his own cage. He'd built it himself, with his reputation, his beliefs, his actions, his scheming, his secret yearnings. And now that he'd left… Blair knew he was running from remorse, and guilt, and anger, and pain. She knew he wanted to forget. She knew he was hurting. But she also knew that no matter where he ran, he'd just end up running into himself. He'd have to face the truth sooner or later.

And when he did, she promised herself she'd be there for him, like Paul was for Holly. No matter what Chuck said to her, or did, or sneered. No matter how many meaningless girls he screwed, or how many joints he smoked, or how many glasses of scotch he drank.

Like Cyrus said, he needed time. And while it was painful to think that she couldn't fix everything herself—she, who was the mastermind behind every plot at Constance and St. Jude's—while it was painful to think that she, by herself, couldn't help him, that she was limited, that what Chuck needed right now she alone couldn't provide, Blair knew she'd just have to accept that and move on.

And she would be there for him. When he was ready. Because she loved him.


End file.
